Cut It Off
by offerjupiter
Summary: Nezumi returns to the apartment and insists Shion cuts his hair for reasons unknown. Adorable fluff ensues, just oneshot for now.


A quick bit of fluff for a friend. She helped me realize my unprecedented love for people with long hair that cut it short. So I was kind of fulfilling our little obsession here. Anyway, I hope you enjoy!

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The door slammed open and closed as Shion was preparing dinner. The soup bubbled and steam drifted into the air lazily. Shion glanced up, waiting for Nezumi to appear amongst the bookshelves.

"Welcome back!" Shion called out when Nezumi didn't enter right away, humming under his breath as he stirred the boiling mixture.

"Cut it off." Shion jumped; he hadn't heard him approach at all. Nezumi was standing three feet from him, calmly pulling off his scarves and his shirt, tossing the discarded garments onto the couch. A trace of lipstick still smeared his cheek. Glittering makeup painted his eyes.

"What?" Shion asked tentatively, hand frozen on the soup ladle.

"I said, cut if off." Nezumi repeated evenly. He held out a pair of scissors to Shion. Shion stared at them and back to Nezumi, blinking at him with an edge of confusion.

"Cut off...?"

"My hair." Nezumi said, meeting Shion's flickering eyes with his own distant and cold. "Cut off my hair." Shion gave a little start of surprise, trying to discern if this was a joke or not. What was Nezumi playing at? The soup began to boil over and yanked him out of his trail of thoughts.

"Oh no." Shion muttered to himself, quickly turning off the burner and moving the soup off the oven. It bubbled and steamed, but would be fine for eating after it cooled down. Nezumi chuckled at the boy in front of him, brows furrowed in concentration over soup! He felt himself give way slowly, watching Shion fret over the dinner that he had cooked for them; for him. Those feelings didn't linger long.

"If you won't do now I'll just cut it myself." Nezumi muttered, grabbing a handful of hair and bringing the scissors up to it.

"Nezumi, wait-!" Shion found himself reaching out, grabbing the scissors from the taller man. He held them in his hands, treating them with care. Nezumi watched impassively as the scissors were taken from him. He dropped his hand quickly to his side, staring blankly ahead of him. "What's with this all the sudden?" Shion asked softly. Nezumi sighed, his reserved face wavering for a moment. He shook his head.

"I just want it short." Nezumi stated matter-of-factly. Shion tilted his head to the side inquiringly. His mannerisms were similar to Nezumi's rats.

"For no reason? What about your work?" Shion continued insistently. Nezumi shook his head and and sank down against the wall. He began to rub off the stray lipstick marks.

"I'm quitting at the theater."

"Quitting, why?! You love acting!" Shion said with surprise.

"Not for them." Nezumi spat back suddenly. Shion jumped at the sudden break of character. Nezumi began to rub furiously at his face. Shion set the scissors on the counter and grabbed a towel.

"Here." He crouched down in front of Nezumi and dabbed at the make up, being more gentle than Nezumi had been on himself. Three quick strokes and the red smears were gone. "Do you want me to get the rest of it off?" Shion asked hesitantly. Nezumi nodded, not meeting his eyes. "Close your eyes then." Nezumi complied, feeling darkness envelope his surroundings.

He was aware, though, of Shion all too close to him. The running water of the sink and then cool pressure above his eyelids. The other boy gently caressing his face. Nezumi felt his shoulders drooping, his mind spacing out.

"There!" Nezumi's eyes flickered open to Shion's smiling face. He reached up and felt his skin, the sticky feeling of foundation gone.

"Now cut my hair." Nezumi repeated yet again. Shion sat down cross legged in front of Nezumi. "Are you gonna get the scissors or what?" He snapped at the white-haired boy in annoyance. Couldn't he just listen for once?

"What happened tonight?" He questioned him.

"Nothing. I just got tired of it." Shion took in Nezumi's face, the tense lines of his mouth, and nodded. He stood up and retrieved the scissors.

"Whatever you say." Of course Shion didn't believe him, but he didn't pry. "Sit here." He pulled up a chair and Nezumi dropped down indifferently, crossing his arms. Shion undid the ponytail and ran his hands through Nezumi's hair, smoothing it out. It was silky, and pooled in his hands. Slipping through his fingers like water. He felt his face heat up slightly and shook himself.

"What are you waiting for?" Nezumi growled.

"How short do you want it?" Shion replied, tapping against the scissors thoughtfully.

"Short." Was all Nezumi said. Shion shrugged and tangled his fingers in his hair, pulling it out from his head. He began to cut. The sound of scissors snipping filled the small residence, Shion's nimble fingers working slowly. Locks of blue hair tumbled down to the floor, quickly making a pile. Nezumi bounced his leg impatiently. By the time he was done, Nezumi's hair was slightly shorter than Shion's. Blue tufts clung to his head, framing his sharp face. Nezumi ran a hand through his hair and nodded.

"Thanks." He said, and got up, accidentally knocking down the chair. Nezumi glanced at it. "You finish with dinner. I'll clean this up." Shion nodded, taken aback at this new Nezumi. Exposed neck, no ponytail swishing around in his walk. It was... well, Shion liked it. He always liked Nezumi, though. But this was particularly nice.

They worked in silence, Nezumi sweeping up his hair and Shion finishing the soup, adding in spices and ladling it into their bowls. Nezumi accepted his bowl graciously and sat down on their couch. Shion watched him eat, not paying much attention to his own food. He ate it absentmindedly, leaning against the wall.

"What?" Nezumi asked, slurping up the rest of his soup and setting it on the table with a clatter. Shion blinked rapidly a few times and shrugged.

"It's just different." He replied, beginning to eat his own food.

"Different is the point." Nezumi replied curtly, standing up and digging around in his drawers for another shirt. He felt a hand graze the small of his back, skin lighting up with goose bumps.

"What really happened tonight Nezumi?" Shion asked quietly, his hand resting lightly on Nezumi's back. Nezumi snapped. Fine, if Shion really wanted to know, he'd get to know.

"The manager tried to sell my, uh, services." Nezumi told the wall bitterly. Shion's hand tensed on Nezumi's skin; he felt small nails prick his back.

"What do you...?"

"Remember the prostitute?" Shion felt his face flare with embarrassment at the reminder. "Like that, Shion. To greasy old men with no interest in my presentation of Ophelia and only my appearances." Nezumi pulled away from Shion and walked across the room, kicking the wall angrily. "No one appreciates literature, or acting, anymore. It was never really about that in the first place, I think." Shion flitted after Nezumi like a butterfly, following his movements around the room.

"Do you not like men...?" Shion felt himself asking, his heart beating wildly. He wasn't even sure of his own feelings towards Nezumi, but the thought of him not liking him made his stomach plummet and his heart implode...

"Not fat, money-greedy, fucktards like the ones at my shows." Nezumi replied. He was in front of Shion in a flash, cupping his face and trailing his fingers down his neck. "White-haired boys with irregular scar patterns, however..." Nezumi smirked down at Shion, whose face burned bright red. Nezumi laughed loudly and released Shion, sitting down on the bed.

"That wasn't nice." Shion muttered, crossing his arms.

"The look on your face was." Nezumi replied. Shion glanced at him in surprise. Any hint that he was teasing him now didn't show. Shion crossed the room and ran his hands through Nezumi's hair. Nezumi stared up at him with expressionless eyes. It was soft, downy feathers. The glossy, sleek feeling from before was gone. The shorter his hair got, the fluffier it became. Thick gossamer, poofy and wild. Shion combed his fingers through the downy blue strands.

"I think..." Shion began. "I think I did a good job." He decided to say, his hand hesitantly resting on Nezumi's head. Nezumi chuckled.

"Yeah Shion, it's a pretty good cut."


End file.
